


In the end...

by Between_lines



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure tri., Digimon Last Evolution
Genre: Also some fluff, Blow Jobs, Drinking, Drug Use, Drugs, M/M, Partying, Self-Destruction, Taito, Yamato's POV, messed up relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29439792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Between_lines/pseuds/Between_lines
Summary: The fiction continues after Digimon Last Evolution Kizuna:It’s not hard for Yamato to get drinks for free. Not in a town like this when he looks like he does. A light unintentional touch, a cracked smile, pretended interest and kaching! endless drinks, pills and meaningless sex. His personal Neverland. He’s such a hypocrite. He owns Menoa an apology. He had never been so wrong in his whole life. So, he pays the price: every single night is a mean to fill the void in his chest.
Relationships: Ishida Yamato | Matt Ishida/Yagami Taichi | Tai Kamiya
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

The club is overcrowded with beautiful people who are glowing in the neon light and celebrating the lightheartedness of life. Extreme beats are buzzing through Yamato’s body. Not the music he usually listens to. The atmosphere is filled with airless electricity. It’s _the_ place to be in Tokyo. It’s no weekend, but he can’t tell what day it is. Lately, here is where he finds himself far too often at this time of the day. Bright lights flash the room. He closes his eyes for a sec. Six months of his new lifestyle feel like a lifetime.

It’s not hard for him to get drinks for free. Not in a town like this when he looks like he does. A light, unintentional touch, a cracked smile, pretended interest and _kaching!_ endless drinks, pills and meaningless sex. _His personal Neverland._ Yamato smiles sadly: He’s such a hypocrite. He owns Menoa an apology. _He has never been so wrong in his whole life._ So, he pays the price: every single night is a mean to fill the void in his chest. Of course, it’s not keeping the emptiness at bay forever but it’s his escape for the moment and that’s enough.

Time begins to blur as he orders one drink after another. The party is at its peak and Yamato knows he should get his ass on the dancefloor if he doesn’t want to leave alone. And he never leaves alone. Dimmed lights turn his vision into one shitty color mess. He’s always walking on the edge. A restless search for lightheartedness. At the end of the night, he’s jumping over the cliff; every single time. But he’s far from this point and save from the fall for now: He keeps the balance and let the fake warm feeling fill him up. He doesn’t feel much these days anymore.

Alcohol makes him sentimental and melancholic. No good combination when you’re out alone in Tokyo’s Party District. His thoughts shortly trail off to a time when he was happy. He shortly thinks about the other DigiDestined.

_It would probably be so much more fun to have Mimi joining him on the dancefloor. She knows how to enjoy life._

Well, friendship once was his highest good. But that was another life and there was no turning back.

_Sora … once they had been so close. Now she was damn unhappy. She had made another false attempt to meet her mother’s expectations. Fulfill her dreams: Flower arrangement instead of soccer. Her lack of self-loving drove her away from Biyomon, the others and even him. By telling her, he destroyed their friendship._

Yamato is a sinner. He has a certain type, and he doesn’t need the opinion of a therapist to figure out why. Messy dark hair, athletic, bold. His fantasies are bad for him. Actually, Yamato is shy. Not that anyone needs to know. He’s a bit proud that he learned to cover up his uncertainties within the past months. A single glance is enough to signalize a man across the room to come closer. He’s perfect for one night. After a while of dancing, the man places his hand on his shoulder. Yamato tenses when he feels the other man’s breath on his ear: “Do you want to dance all night?”

“I’d rather be somewhere else.” It’s the truth. Yamato doesn’t need to see happy shiny colors.

Now the guy grins and once again Yamato is reminded of a certain someone he wants to forget. “Luckily; I have exactly what you need.”

Yamato gives in quickly and nods. The man drags him in the darkest corner of the club and pulls out a small box. He shows Yamato a small piece of paper, smaller than a stamp. Yamato can’t see what’s printed on it. It’s too dark and he doesn’t really care anyway. He sticks out his tongue and the man place the ticket out of his misery, on his tongue. Yamato closes his lips around the finger in his mouth, licks and sucks. The eatable paper melts in a heartbeat. Soon enough it’ll reveal its effect. He can’t wait to fully sink into the warmth of another parallel universe, even if it won’t ever be the Digiworld.

What follows is the usual routine, he plays on repeat every night: Dancing. Shots. Closer dancing. A hand on his ass. Yamato doesn’t do kissing. Soon he finds himself pressed against the wall of the bathroom stalls. The dark-haired man is on his knees. Often enough the places are switched. Like always in such situations, he closes his eyes and betrays himself by pretending it’s Taichi. The tingly feeling reaches his fingertips. Everything feels more intense now. Perfect timing. He can’t deny that the nameless guy knows what he’s doing. He’s more than willing to give up control. He doesn’t even make an attempt to suppress the moan that escapes his lips. The guy instantly rewards it with more enthusiasm. He can’t gather enough self-control to make it last longer – not in this floating state of ecstasy, he’s in - and most of all, he won’t risk interrupting whatever the guy is doing with the tip of his tongue right now. When he feels the orgasm creeping, he holds his breath and pictures Taichi naked, moaning and screaming his name. Deep down he’s aware, it’s not real, but he doesn’t give it a thought, he will deal with the emptiness tomorrow.

A slight dizziness pulses within his head. Soon the pulsing is merging to the room around him. He doesn’t even have to open his eyes; he simply feels it. The music seems far away. His heartbeat echoes in his ears. He licks his lips. They taste like vanilla. Now his lips prickle just the way his fingertips do. He feels likewise heavy and weightless.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” The words reached him much later. A grip around his arm sends little eclectic waves through his body. His heavy eye lids cause him difficulties to keep focused. With a breathless _yeahs_ Yamato agrees. Actually, it feels different when the drug hits his bloodstream - at least from what he experienced, but he’s too high to overthink the consequences of drug use in this very moment.

"You really are out of it, aren't you?!” The guy chuckles. “Meet me outside, I’ll get our jackets.” So, Yamato hands him the token for his coat. Then he’s gone.

He stumbles towards the sinks. His mouth is dry. Cold sweat is running down his spine. His heart is hammering against his chest. With shaking hands, he splashes some cool water in his face. It doesn’t have the hoped effect. For a while, he let water pour over his wrist. It calms him. He looks up in the mirror. Although he’s constantly insured, that he’s handsome and hot, he must admit, he doesn’t like what he sees: He’s even paler than usual. The lack of sleep caught up and dark shadows only let guess how many nights he didn’t find any peaceful sleep. Blown pupils displace the blue in his eyes. _This is who he is now._ For a moment he just stands there and stares at himself. When did things go so fucking wrong? He knows the answer and remembers why he’s here: _Gabumon is gone. He’s dead._ And the once glorious Chosen Children have fallen hard. All bridges burned. _Too overwhelming is the reminder of the loss of his Digimon. Too disappointing being left alone in his pain by the other DigiDestines who continued their lives like it won’t make a difference. Too present is the disconnection between him and Taichi._ Again, he reaches a dark place in his mind. A place he actually wanted to escape from. He’s aware that the obvious absence of serotonin in his brain and intoxicants are no friends. The combination is dangerous.

It’s too hot, too loud and too crowded when he pushed his way through complaining people. He can’t breathe. He must get out.

The cold hits him unexpected and merciless. He wears highly wasted black jeans and a T-shirt from his former band Knife-Of-Day. His rule: Less fabric, more drinks. He can’t keep his hands from shaking when he lights a cigarette on the illuminated street in front of the club. It’s January and fucking cold. Usually, he copes well with the mix, but he can’t ignore the protests of his body any longer. It’s his third night in a row out here, so the reaction doesn’t really come as a surprise. He sinks down on the pavement and hugs his knees. The position isn’t well chosen and his stomach clenches. He isn’t well and everything is spinning. Suddenly the icy winter air feels more than welcome to abstract him from the upcoming waves of sickness.

“Seriously?” An annoyed voice addresses him. Yamato doesn’t know how long he sits there but his cigarette is already burned down without taking a second drag. The man throws something onto him, but he is neither in a state to get back up nor put on his black coat by himself.

“That’s not how I imagined my night to end.” The guy’s mood has gone beyond bad. He lights a cigarette and sighs dramatically.

Meanwhile Yamato struggles to keep his eyes open. He’s fighting to save the last piece of his dignity and trying hard to keep his meagre dinner at bay. The cold feels like thousand needles. His body doesn’t listen to his instructions anymore. He loses the fight: His stomach is churning and Yamato groans when he falls to the side. He pays the price for the last nights and jumps over the cliff.

He ignores another sigh beside him. “Is there anyone I can call for you?” The man obviously has pity.

Yamato doesn’t have an answer. _T.K? No! Never would he bother his little brother. He deserves happiness and the lightheartedness Yamato had lost. He deserves to enjoy love for the first time and the last days with Patamon. It was just a matter of time til he was gone, too. His father? Definitely not! Just last week, they had a fight about Yamato’s self-destructing lifestyle and even if he isn’t father of the year, Yamato does feel guilty._

“Hey!” He feels a hand on his shoulder, realizing he has faded. “Is there anyone I can call?” The other repeats with waning patience.

_And Taichi? He wouldn’t even answer his call._

“What was that?”

_‘...T’chi.’_

“Is that your boyfriend?”

Fuck! Did Yamato say his name aloud?

“Hmmnn…” _NO_ was actually the word he was looking for.

Again, he feels the touch of the man’s hand on his body. Its wandering down to his ass. Yamato doesn’t even fight it. _What is he doing?_ He hasn’t time to think his theories through because his stomach is protesting once again. He coughs. It’s messy and he’s aware that he’s looking pathetic down there on the ground, but then again, he reminds himself: he doesn’t care. Far away, in between his misery, he hears fragments of a one-sided conversation:

“I’m here with your boyfriend… better pick him up, he’s… send you the location.”

Footsteps are coming closer. He’s pulled into an upright sitting position. He groans by the sudden change of position.

“Here’s your phone back.” Nameless guy puts it back in his pocket and guilt tugs inside Yamato for forgetting his name. “Your boyfriend picks you up. He should be here in 20 minutes.”

“I dn’t h’ve a boyfrnd.” Yamato presses out and wipes the rests of the sour taste off his mouths.

“Well anyway, that Taichi guy picks you up. Whoever he is. Main thing, you’re not my responsibility anymore.”

 _Taichi? Did he say Taichi?_ Yamato couldn’t think straight. “He won’t come.” He responds surprisingly clear and convinced. He still feels the shit in his system, and he begs the terror within him to stop. IF Taichi was really on his way (what he highly doubts) he doesn’t want him to see him like that: _Broken, vulnerable and pathetic._ But he can’t even move on his own and Taichi won’t come, so it barely makes a difference what he’s wishing for.

The guy hesitates. His view lingers on him. “Mostly, I spare other people from my unrequired advices, but you don’t seem to be the kind of brainless junkie that usually hangs around here…” He pauses. “…tomorrow you probably won’t remember a thing…” he probably questions himself why he’s wasting his time. “… but you’re wrong here. This is the end of the line. Whatever it is you’re dealing with, or whatever you want to avoid, sooner or later you can’t escape reality. It always catches up. Believe me. I’ve been there.”

Yamato is pulled away by darkness and can’t even bring himself to look up, much less answer. He doesn’t know how much time has passed when he suddenly hears a familiar voice. It’s impossibly far way and Yamato would rather stay where he is.

“Yama! Yamato!” The alarmed voice gets louder every time. He feels cool hands on his cheeks. “HEY! Yamato!”

Was that…? He gathers the rest of his energy that’s left. His eyes open like sandpaper. _Is he hallucinating?_ In front of him leans Taichi. His chocolate brown eyes are full of worries.

“T-a-i.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice. “..t’s cold.” Yamato drifts off again.

“You hear me? Hey, look at me! You can’t stay here. We must get you off the ground. Come on!” Tai’s efforts are all in vain.

Then he is pulled up with one sudden movement and the world is spinning. He makes a breathless noise and fully leans on Taichi. He clenches his jacket. He smells like summer and he suddenly feel like crying. The awful realization hits him when they both sit in the taxi to god knows where: he is crying on Taichi’s shoulder, who doesn’t make a sound. He just holds him. The warmth inside the car makes him painfully realize that he’s frozen to the bone. He can’t control neither the shaking nor the sobs. Everything he tried to bury within the past few months comes to the surface. Taichi covers him with his coat but doesn’t speak until they arrive at their aim.

“Yama.” He says softer than he deserves. “We’re there.”  
“I can’t go home.”  
“I know.”

Taichi pulls him out of the car. Every cell of his body aches when he steps out in the cold once again. Tai places Yama’s arm around his shoulders and his own hand on his waist to support him. Yamato doesn’t know where they are. He has never been here before. With some difficulties, Taichi unlocks the door and they enter, straight to the bathroom. Again, he finds himself on the floor.

“It’s all wrong.” Yamato says incoherent and somewhere deep down he knows he makes little sense to Taichi. But that’s exactly what it is: _it’s all wrong:_ Gabumon and Agumon are supposed to be alive. After all they have been through, they didn’t deserve to die! Not after they saved both worlds several times. He wants to shout out how unfair it is but the aftermath of the drug traps him inside his head. _It is all wrong:_ Tai and he are supposed to be connected in a way no one else is. Blind trust and understanding. Soulmates. Whatever it was, he still has no words for it. He loves him but never confessed. He always hoped that Taichi would somehow just be aware of his feelings, because of their unique connection. Right here, right now, it almost seems ridiculous to expect Taichi to simply decode his feelings without really communicating. Maybe he should have listened to Gabumon ages ago and tell him.

_“Just tell him!”_  
_“I can’t!”_  
_“Why?”_  
_“What if he hates me? I won’t risk our friendship!”_  
_“But wasn’t it the same for Sora, when she first told you, she loved you?”_  
_“Yes, … no! It’s different with Taichi. It’s complicated.”_

But his argument from back then doesn’t count anymore: their friendship is already broken. So actually, no need to let his secret eat him up from the inside any longer. Not that he expects to be loved back. The fact that Taichi picked him up at a gay club would probably make it easier to start a conversation. At least he didn’t lose his sarcasm.

Again, the laws of physics are suspended. Time moves backwards and forwards and he can’t control it. He feels like he’s dying when he finds himself over the toilet, throwing up once again. Taichi is there with him. The whole time. Yamato is exhausted and falls into a restless nothingness.

“Lift your arms!” he is brought back with an urgency, he doesn’t understand. Though he does his best without questioning the unusual request of his best friend. He is pulled away from the toilet to the other corner of the small bathroom. His Vans and jeans are roughly pulled off as well. Soon he is stripped naked. On every other day, he’d probably totally freak out about the fact that his crush makes his fantasies come true. Within a heartbeat he’s brought back to reality: ice cold water drops patter on his face and body. It feels like a punch in his face. His whole body is under tension and he breathes heavily. He makes a noise he would later deny as whimper. “Tai…” he reaches out a hand to make him stop. _How long will he let him suffer?_ He has a list of worst moments of his life but this one will probably make it to the top 3. To Yamato’s relief he finally stops the water. The fog in his head slowly clears off. He opens his eyes although everything within him screams not to. To his surprise Taichi looks relieved at him. The other boy closes his eyes for a moment and consciously in- and exhales deeply.

“Are you with me again?” Taichi cracks a smile.

Yamato frowns. _What was that supposed to mean?_

New goose bumps start to raise all over his body. Taichi wraps him in a huge towel and rubs off the water drops. “Just hold on a bit longer, then you can get some rest.” Taichi says quiet. Yamato’s view lingers on him with half closed eye lids.

“I don’t deserve that you’re being so nice.”

“You suffered enough for a night.” He pauses. “And you’re my best friend after all.”

“I’ve missed you.”

Taichi sighs almost soundless. “I’ve missed you, too, Yama.”

After what feels like an eternity, Yamato has changed into Taichi’s shirt and boxers. Once again, Taichi knees down in front of him. He let his arms slide under Yamato’s, who pulls him close. For a heartbeat both linger in this position cheek to cheek. Yamato allows himself to get lost in the bittersweet feeling. He lives for those small but precious moments in their messed-up relationship. Much too soon, it’s over and he’s pulled up. Taichi rather carries him than support him. No one says a word. Somehow manages to reach the bedroom. Yamato let himself sink into Taichi’s soft pillows and pulls the blanket under his chin. It’s warm and comforting. Tai sits down at the edge of his bed and hands him water. Yamato weakly shakes his head. Just imagining drinking any liquid tightens his throat. “I’ve called Joe. You are dehydrated. Drink the water.” He doesn’t leave any room for discussions. He makes him drink. He places the glass on his lips and lifts his head when Yama isn’t able to sit up. It’s not much, that he chokes down, but Tai seems satisfied for now and releases him from his grip.

“Damn, Yama… you really scared the hell out of me!”

Yamato swallows. He’s glad that Taichi obviously still cares, but his brain doesn’t work proper and the hurt about their last fights is anchored too deep inside. “So, I only almost have to die that you pick up your phone?” Taichi looks guilty but suddenly more distant and is about to get up. Yamato immediately regrets his choice of words. To make up for it, he takes Taichi’s hand and nuzzles sorry into the pillow. He’s too tired, too broken to discuss. Taichi sits back down and they stay like this for a while. Yamato tangles their fingers. Taichi lets him and mirrors his movements without looking at him.

For the first time, Yamato sneaks at the clock. It’s 4 anything in the morning. He knows, he can’t ask for more, but he does anyway before sleep overcomes him. “Stay.” He can’t take being alone. He avoids Tai’s eyes. “Please.” He adds much quieter and tightens the grip around his best friend’s hand.

_In the Digiworld, when they were kids, they always placed their sleeping bags right beside each other. T.K and Hikari slept on each other’s side. The perfect illusion of safety. Ironically, back then they held hands a lot. It was an inherent part of their friendship. None of the other group members ever mention or questioned it. Until the age of fourteen, Tai regularly slept over and they shared Yamato’s bed as a matter of course. Not that it made any difference in their friendship. Though Yamato always had a glimpse of hope, it someday would. He was convinced Tai simply enjoyed the benefits of his workaholic father, who was never home. Things changed, when Yamato and Sora got together, which messed things up between the trio. It was the beginning of the end. When on top, sex was suddenly the most discussed (and clearly one-sided) topic in the showers after soccer matches, Tai finally distant himself for sure. It had been a creeping process, but he never slept over ever again._

Tai hesitates but’s slips under the blanket. He stares at the ceiling with Yamato in his arm. Yamato closes his eyes and hugs him. At least for now, he can pretend everything is fine.

“Yama…” Tai almost whispers. “…that club…are you often there?”

The question seems odd in a half-sleeping, half-non-sober state. Yamato only nods shortly without further explanations. Not because he’s ashamed (well he’s indeed ashamed of tonight, but not of the fact he’s frequently there, no, it’s because everything concerning emotional uncertainty between them is a taboo-topic for Taichi.)

“Is that guy your boyfriend?”  
Yamato makes a quiet half chuckling half choking noise in his trance of sobering up. “No.”  
“Would you’ve gone home with him?”  
“f’couse.”  
Another long pause follows. “You never said anything.”  
“I’ve tried.”

_It’s the truth: he tried to tell him so many times that he lost count: when he broke up with Sora; when their fusion of Omnimon broke back when they attended high school; after the reboot, when they thought, they had lost their Digimon forever; in the Digiworld, when they sat alone at the bonfire sharing a shift of keeping watch; after Taichi revived from the dead; after Gabumon died… They never even talked about these mostly haunting events at all. It happened. They moved on and got over it… but Yamato didn’t._

Taichi swallows.  
“Turns out our crests are our burden.” Yamato nuzzles into Taichi’s shoulder. “Pretty ironic, don’t you think?” He surprises himself that he isn’t talking absolute nonsense.  
“Yama…” Taichi sighs frustrated as if he knew it all along. Everything.  
“I can’t change how I feel…” The last thing Yamato wants, is to add this moment to his list of unsaid deadweight.

“…it was always you.”

His head is still buried in Taichi’s shoulder, but he won’t leave space for false interpretations, so he brings his lips to Tai’s cheek and kisses him shortly but sweet. For a blink of an eye, he imagines their lives together and Taichi as boyfriend. He feels Taichi’s whole body freezing underneath him. He inhales sharply. Yamato must admit this is the smallest possible version of a love confession, but it’s the best he has to offer tonight, and Tai can’t run this time. Taichi doesn’t answer but doesn’t leave either. Of course, Yamato has hoped for another reaction, or any reaction at all but he feels so much lighter after just telling him. The lack of sleep of the last days takes its toll and he finally gives in to the heavy tiredness.


	2. Chapter 2

When Yamato wakes, it feels like he slept for ages but still not enough. It probably won’t ever be enough to catch up the lack of restlessness. Every cell of his body aches. An ashtray in his mouth. His head feels twice its size. His skin is dry and tense. Though it’s cloudy and the blinds are down, the light of day burns his blood-shot eyes. His throat burns. He thinks twice before he slowly moves his head, then his upper body and finally his arm reaches for the water beside him. It’s the worst hangover of his life. _‘Where is he?!’_ Usually, he never stays anywhere overnight. It’s one of his rules. He has a hand full of self-made rules to keep up the illusion of control.

He puts the puzzle of last night back together piece by piece. At once, his memories return in the speed of light, but his mind can’t compete with the mess he made. He shoots up, instantly regretting the sudden change of position. _‘Fuck!’_ He presses his fingers onto his eyes and falls back into a less uncomfortable position. The pictures of last night are too much. He fucked up, again. He’s addicted to failure. He consciously inhales. _‘That smell… the pillow smells like late summer and corn flower fields.’_ A pillow and a blanket are all it takes to comfort him and makes the pain more bearable. _‘Last night he …’_ He recalls Taichi beside him:

_A cool hand is resting on his burning cheek. He is shortly fighting the heavy force of sleep before he’s pulled back into the deep rest, his body is in desperate need of. /_

_He feels Taichi restless beside him. He forces himself to open his eyes to see what’s going on: Taichi sits beside him, rubbing his face and eyes. It’s still dark outside._

_“Taichi.” Yamato whispers._

_Taichi turns his head towards him. In the first moment, he looks caught. Then his eyes soften, but he looks exhausted – physically and emotionally. Yama is aware, he’s the reason._

_“I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s early. Go back to sleep.”_

_Yamato grabs Tai’s shirt when he’s about to get up. “Don’t go” it’s not more than a whisper, but his voice raspy and unintentionally needy._

_Taichi sighs soundless but does lay back down beside his best friend. They face each other. Taichi rests his head on his bended arm. His other arm is placed casually around Yama’s waist over the blanket. It seems surreal and Yamato can’t tell if this is happening in his head. His mind is still clouded. Though this moment is more real than every other moment within the past months. Taichi looks at him with a view that’s impossibly to decode. Their connection is essential, true and real and even if Yamato doesn’t have a clue what’s actually going on in his best friend’s head, he knows he feels it, too. He makes Yama remember who he used to be. With Taichi beside him he can be himself. No, he can be so much more. He used to be the one who got through to Taichi when he won’t listen to no one. Why can’t he have the life he imagines together with him? Why can’t he wake up beside him every fucking day? Is it really too much to ask for? No one else ever made him feel ice and fire at the same time. He’s absorbed by the here and now. His hand wanders up to Tai’s cheek. An invisible force pulls him closer. He needs him. They need each other. He leans forward and locks their lips. If this really is a dream it’s a good one. It’s the most innocent kiss Yamato ever placed on someone’s lips. He lingers for only a bit longer than a heartbeat. These few seconds of a touch are enough to make him feel likewise familiarly home and excited in a way, he never experienced before. Then he pulls away before Taichi even has a chance to react._

_“I love you” Yamato breathes against the other’s lips before he dares to open his eyes again:_

_Taichi looks like he’s in pain. Eyes squeezed shut. Brows drew together. He’s holding his breath as if he’s holding all of himself inside; as if he hasn’t inhaled in years. Taichi has never been an expert on analysing feelings, neither his friend’s nor his own; not that Yama would consider himself as specialist on emotions… hell no, but instead of his best friend he slams the stripped truth in his face no matter how fatally wrong he might be. Yamato isn’t sorry. Taichi makes him lose control – in every possible way. He makes him feel. He hits him where it hurts. The other way around it’s the very same. It’s an interdependence. It always had been that way. When their relationship is in balance, together they achieve the extraordinary. But when they aren’t synch, both quickly reach an unhealthy level of self-destruction – even if they chose different means for their way downhill._

_“You don’t have to say anything.” Yamato doesn’t expect his love to be required._

_Taichi finally opens his eyes. It’s dark but Yamato can see he’s helplessly overburden. “Just stay.” These are definitely the wrong circumstances to work up years of unsaid deadweight in the break of dawn. Yamato closes his eyes again, takes Taichi’s hand and tangle their fingers in front of his chest. /_

_Once again, he’s brought back into a trance kind of state. This time by a cold absence beside him. Without opening his eyes, he reaches out. Taichi is gone. It’s cold and he’s alone._

He feels sick and tries to regulate his breath. A second and third time he inhales deeply, ignoring the taste-mixture of cold smoke, and acid alcohol. Suppressed voices on the opposite side of the door seem impossibly far away. _‘Is it too much to ask for to wake up in silence? What time is it anyway?’_ The voices are getting louder. They are moving in his direction, but he really can’t deal with more than himself right now. _‘Focus on his smell.’_ Yamato repeats the mantra in his pounding head and pulls the pillow over his eyes. Inside of him it’s dark. He shouldn’t have agreed on swallowing that fucking pill. But if he is honest to himself, he knew that before. He isn’t naïve enough to think he won’t do it again. Because he will. But he swears himself to at least slow down, because he really fears the dark side of the morning after a night of partying. He already has been in that pitch dark cave of depression when he was a child, and there is hardly anything you can do to return by yourself. Only wait for it to pass. In those moments, he always reminds himself the price it not worth paying, but he won’t hang on to false promises. He isn’t reliable anymore.

He hears the bedroom door open. Someone is entering but he doesn’t move an inch. _‘Why can’t he be left alone?’_ Whoever it is, sits down at the edge of the bed. “Hey Yamato, you’re awake?” He immediately recognises Joe’s voice. He decides not moving is his best option: hopefully Joe will leave by his false attempts to wake him. Unfortunately, he doesn’t give up so easily. He slowly pulls the pillow off his face. Yamato tries to pull it back up half-hearted. When he loses the fight, he squeezes his eyes shut and replaces the pillow by his arm. “Leave me alone.” He groans.

“You have slept over 36 hours.” Joe switches to his doctor voice … well actually it’s the same voice as always. That’s who he is and always was: It’s meant well, but his speeches always sound likewise lecturing and kind of accusing. Yamato suddenly feels like a child: he is neither in a condition nor position to discuss. But he can’t really blame Taichi for dragging Joe’s ass here, because he’s shocked about the fact as well. He feels Joe’s fingers on his wrist, taking his pulse. Yamato forces himself to blink and finally looks at the older guy. He looks extremely tiered. He probably headed here right from work. He still wears his dark grey scarf, so Yamato guesses he’s not intending to stay long. He’s even more serious than usual. “Can you sit up?”

_‘Why is he torturing him?’_ Yamato let his head roll aside to prepare for the impossible. Just then he notices Taichi leaning in the door frame, arms crossed. He stares at him. His expression unreadable. He wears his work uniform. Obviously, his shift is over, because the white shirt hangs loose out of his black trousers and the matching waistcoat is open. He needs the job to pay the rent, but he told Yama he detests working in a casino full of tourists and scum. They look at each other for a heartbeat, then he’s brought back to reality by Joe. “Come on.” He pulls him up and Yamato can’t suppress another groan. “Fuck!” He immediately holds his head. Joe and Taichi exchange nervous glances. Then Taichi leaves the room wordless.

“Yamato…” Joe starts with an even more accusing tone in his voice. “… listen, I know you don’t want to hear this.”

“Then spare me.” Yamato stretches his neck and circles his temples with his fingers.

“Do you actually remember _anything_ from the night Taichi found you?”

“Enough.” Yamato mutters sheepish.

Joe sighs. “Do you actually have any idea how your behaviour affects others? How am I going to manage to concentrate on my night shifts from now on? Do you have any idea how often nameless guys are brought through the door of the ambulance? I’ll always fear, it’s you!” He says hysterically and way to dramatic for Yamato’s taste, but he already feels the weight of guilt on his shoulders. “I’ve told Taichi to bring you in when he called me. Man… he was a wreck.” Joe suddenly looks haunted.

“What do you mean?” Yamato swallows dry.

Shortly Joe seems lost in his memories. “Well, he called me at work, because I’m not allowed to carry my phone during shifts. He wasn’t himself. He totally lost it. He screamed at me when he wasn’t able to wake you.”

There is a twitching pain in Yamato’s chest when he remembers his best friend’s scared expression. He’s paralyzed. He regrets his behaviour of last night. _'Why can’t he simply forget it? Wasn’t alcohol supposed to erase haunting memories?’_

“If you ask me, it would have been _right_ to make you see a real doctor, but he told me you protested, so he brought you here.” That’s indeed something Yama can’t remember. He looks down and bits his lips. “You’re not stupid. You pretty sure do know about the aftermaths of an overdose, don’t you?”

Yamato nods still facing the floor.

“What actually was it?” Joe asks curious. He surely never even took a drag of a cigarette.

“I dunno.” he admits.

“You don’t know??” Joe shouts, and his head feels like it’s exploding. He shoots him a death glance. Yamato doesn’t expect him to understand. He is the last person who would blindly swallow anything.

“LSD, maybe Molly…” His poor explanation doesn’t make it better.

Joe takes a deep breath and starts to list the bad side of drug use. 100% the medical point of view.

“Joe… don’t give me that talk. I know it all.” Yamato begs.

“Obviously you don’t.” he answers dry but let it slide cause it’s obvious that it doesn’t have the hoped effect on him. “Do you really think Gabumon would have wanted such a life for you?” He tries another strategy. Yamato presses his lips together. Gabumon is his blind spot. Joe knows him well and uses it against him … no, that’s not quiet right: he wouldn’t play that card if there was another way. Yamato must face it: he fucked up.

“What about the police academy?” Joe doesn’t give up.

“I’ve been expelled.” Yamato doesn’t need to look at his friend’s face, to know that Joe’s expression changed back into freeze mode. “WHHAAATT? I thought that’s what you wanted?”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry. It wasn’t the right thing for me. I wasn’t happy. Even before…” _‘before Gabumon died.’_ But he doesn’t finish the sentence. Tough it’s the truth.

For a moment, no one says a word. “Then this is how you’ll continue your life?” Joe asks unbelieving.

Yamato doesn’t have an answer. He doesn’t know how he will continue. If he would, he wouldn’t be here. Yamato hears footsteps walking away. _‘Has Taichi overheard the whole conversation in front of the door?’_ They drop the topic and Joe pulls a transparent bag filled with a liquid out of his backpack.

“I’ve stolen salt solution…” Joe announces proud but at the same moment looks guilty as hell.

Yamato’s eyes widen and his mood immediately levels up a tiny little bit. He’s aware he’ll at least _physically_ feel better. He quickly stretches his arm in Joe’s direction. “You’re the best!”

“This is not the solution for your problems!” Joe clearly disapproves to the younger man’s reaction when he places the needle in his vein. “I could lose my job if anyone finds out! I could ruin my career – not to mention my whole future!!” He’s in panic mode again. It’s probably Yamato’s punishment. The universe won’t give him healing for free. But Joe’s little outbreaks are a price he willingly pays. All in all, it’s a fair trait. And it is indeed quiet a risk, the overanxious man takes for him. “I mean I sacrificed my childhood for it.” He adds quiet and much more serious with a bitter undertone.

“Do you regret it?” Yamato dares to ask. After all, he bears the _Crest of Friendship_ and they still are good friends, even if they haven’t spoken in months. He wishes having that conversation in another state of mind, but he pulls himself together. He can’t go anywhere else anyway, so he can fill the precious time to catch up with the highly busy Digi-Destined. He owns him. Meanwhile Taichi enters the room again without facing Yama. He has changed into more comfortable clothes: his old blue hoodie and shorts.

Joe avoids Yamato’s eyes. “Of course, I regret it.”

Never would have Yamato expected such an answer.

“I know what you think of me… I’m the weakest because of the lack of connection between Gomamon and me. And you may even be right. I wasted all my time for studying instead of spending time with my partner. You probably think it wasn’t hard for me to lose him – at least not as hard as it was for you, but you’re mistaken!”

Yamato bits his lip. _Yes_ , that was actually exactly what he has been thinking. _‘How could Joe ever understand the connection between him and Gabumon? Or him and Taichi?’_ In Yamato’s opinion, Joe prioritized the wrong things in life, but in the end, it had been his own decision. So, this is obviously the price he’s paying.

“Joe… no one thinks anything like that.” Taichi walks over and places a hand on the older man’s shoulder.

“Taichi is right.” Yamato agrees. It’s a lie, but white lies are necessary to survive. They are a part of friendship. Though should be treated with caution. But telling the truth now won’t change the past. They all suffered enough. Taichi sees it exactly that way. “And you know Taichi and I barely agree on anything.” He adds with a smirk and shortly looks up at Taichi. _‘Fuck! Is he really flirting, right now? He should better stop sooner than later. They haven’t even talked about last night.’_ To Yamato’s surprise Taichi cracks a smile and chuckles. Relief streams through his body. His heart is suddenly racing, but he doesn’t have time to overthink his best friend’s reaction, because Joe continues talking:

“Sometimes I think, it’s all wrong…”

Taichi suddenly gasps and looks slightly shocked at Yamato, who, too, remembers he said these exact same words last night in between his misery. They exchange glances and Yamato feels their connection blooming for the first time after and eternity. _No words necessary._

“… my whole life was directed by others. Only my brother and Gomamon wanted me to lead my own life. But I was always convinced I was supposed to fit in the roles I was given.”

Now Taichi sits down beside Joe. Yamato left. Joe in the middle. Taichi right. They all three share the same kind of misery. In a twisted way, it makes Yamato feel home.

“Joe, listen, first of all, you should stop worrying about what others may think about you. You know best who you are and what you did to achieve your goals. You should be proud of yourself. Just look where you are now.”

“What? Now you are giving advices?” Joe laughs half-hearted and quickly wipes away some tears. “I cheated.” He adds hardly understandable. Then he’s suddenly crying. Yamato and Taichi look helpless at each other. “My school marks were below average. No matter how much I studied, it was never enough. And then… then Mr. Nishijima turned out to be a member of the Secret Service and I asked him to write me a letter of recommend… it’s the only reason I was allowed to study medicine… No one knows. Not even Gomamon… not even my parents. No one.”

Yamato reaches out just like Taichi. Their hands shortly touch but Taichi quickly pulls away. Yamato ignores him and rubs Joe’ back. Right now, their mess is secondary.

“If you ask me it doesn’t matter. We saved the world. You deserved his letter of recommend either way and otherwise, he wouldn’t have given it to you. You just took _another_ way.” Yamato shrugs his shoulders.

“Just proofs, you don’t know the difference between right and wrong anymore.” Joe hisses.

That’s the thing about hitting the bottom. People suddenly confess their darkest sins to you without even being asked to, because they think you’re not in the position to judge them anymore.

“Joe, stop! Yama’s only trying…!” Taichi addresses him accusing. Yama’s heart flutters by the fact Tai comes flying in his defence.

“Tai. It’s fine.” Yamato interrupts him. “Maybe you’re right, but I know you for half your life. You worked harder than every other person I ever met. Not everyone is a genius like Iz.”

Now Taichi looks up surprised. Just like Joe: “ehhhww… thanks… and sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.” Yamato can take it. If it gets too much, he’ll drown all regrets and accusations in alcohol. It’s that simple.

Taichi sighs and changes the topic. “How about we order something? I’m starving.”

“I can’t stay for dinner, but Yamato, you should eat something!” Joe looks down on him and Yamato knows exactly what question follows: “When was actually the last time you ate anything?”

He suppresses another groan. “I - am - eating.” He rolls his eyes. _He is… but, well, much likely not in a context of Joe’s idea of a balanced diet._ His friend only pulls a face and Taichi’s facial expression is made of stone. It’s no option to refuse, so he does agree to avoid another discussion. It really is time to switch to Smalltalk. Somehow Yamato manages to direct the conversation away from him. Until the rest of the liquid is in Yamato’s system, Joe tells them some stories from work and about his girlfriend. And that it’s hard to have a relationship when both are working shifts. When Joe finally leaves, Yamato does feel better thanks to the liquid. And thanks to the talk his heart is lighter. It’s a good feeling to be remembered that his friends still do care and that the value of Friendship hasn’t fully vanished.


End file.
